


what we make together

by drinkofwourder



Category: Bon Appétit Test Kitchen RPF, Chef RPF
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 18:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19214920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkofwourder/pseuds/drinkofwourder
Summary: she can't help the way he makes her feel,or dropped cakes lead to new things.





	what we make together

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. I never really wanted to write something like this, I haven't written RPF in years! I thought I was in the clear! And then I was writing this fic and making this account, and now I'm hovering over the "post" button. It was inspired by a post of hers on instagram and it just kinda went from there. 
> 
> I have something more NSFW with these two but I'm pretty nervous about posting that one.
> 
> Obligatory RPF rules apply, don't show this to anyone who doesn't need to see it or else I might bash you in the face with the dehydrator.
> 
> Enjoy.

Transporting cakes was harder than it looked, especially when Claire never seemed to have a cake box on hand. It wasn’t her fault that people always asked for cakes at the last minute and she was too nice to turn them down, especially when they begged.

It usually went fine, white knuckled and holding her precarious, precious cargo as a friend drove her to where it needed to go. But she knew that she was playing a dangerous game with the cake gods, knew that it would go wrong eventually. Like she was going on day four or five on one of those harder Gourmet Makes episodes, the ones that had her tearing her hair out and trying more ridiculous, risky things to get the job done. Getting a bit stupid with it, messing up in more obvious ways.

Like forgetting to secure the cake to the board with a smear of buttercream. Like stepping out of her apartment building and watching her hard work tumble down the stairs, almost as if she were seeing it in slow motion. Hours of work, now going to feed the city rats.

There really wasn’t anything Claire could do about it. She couldn’t rewind time or get a cake box posthumously, and she couldn’t exactly pick up the cake. Instead, Claire stared at it for a good five minutes, eyes wide and mouth agape. And then she pulled her phone out, snapped a picture and sent it to the Test Kitchen Slack before going back up to her still-cake-scented apartment to have a good long cry over it.

Brad was the first to message her, responding almost instantly and very sincerely, with everyone else following suit with their sympathies. It really didn’t make her feel any better, nor did the sympathy from Instagram or the person who had asked her to make a cake. Instead, she shut off her phone and did nothing for the rest of the Sunday, knowing that she’d have to go into work the next day.

Claire still felt awful about her cake the next morning, stepping over its remains to catch the subway and trying not to look at the yellow crumbs. Maybe it wasn’t even that good anyway, the rats hadn’t even finished it, maybe she wasn’t that good at baking, maybe it was for the best that it hadn’t made it to the party.

The thoughts raced in her mind throughout her subway ride, joining in with the background noise, more sickening than the squealing wheels. That she was a fraud, a failure, it all hung over her like a ghost as she stepped into the elevator and rode up to the office in a fog. Claire ignored the sympathetic looks her co-workers gave her, and gave a tight smile to anyone who tried to talk to her.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t about the stupid cake. Shit happens but it seemed to be happening more than usual to her these days, nothing was working out and she was really getting stuck in her head over it all.

Claire sat at her desk, staring at her still black screen as if it could turn on and fix the way she felt when, suddenly, something hit her desk with a soft thump. It stirred her out of her thoughts and her eyes laid upon what appeared to be a large wooden box, stained and well made.

When Brad spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically quiet. Or about as quiet as he could get, and he looked almost embarrassed. 

“I uh. Saw what happened yesterday so I just uh. Whipped this up for you, Claire,” He practically mumbled at his feet, reaching out for the box and lifting the lid up, “It’s just a cake box, I hope you like it, okay, bye.” Brad said, practically running off.

She had never seen him act like that before, eyes wide at the sight of his retreating form. He had looked a bit flushed when giving her the present but she wasn’t exactly sure, especially since he hadn’t looked at her. 

Instead of dwelling on it for much longer, Claire turned her attention to the pretty wooden box that he had placed down on her desk. It was very well made, she had seen some of his woodworking projects before but never in person and never like this. It was beautiful, simple but beautiful, and she wondered just how long it had taken him to do it.

It was an incredibly thoughtful gift that had her eyes welling up with tears. He had seen what had happened and spent time to make her a cake box so it wouldn’t happen again. Claire just wished she could thank him before he literally ran away from her.

So, as her fingers skimmed over the box, she decided to go and look for him.

Brad wasn’t at his desk, something that was obvious enough considering that they sat somewhat close together and because he had bolted for the elevator. So he had to be in the kitchen.

It really didn’t take too long to find him, as there was really only a few places he could reasonably be. Brad’s cheeks flushed with color as he looked at her, looking quickly away at the empty work surface in front of him like he was hoping something to do with his hands would just appear.

The kitchen was empty that early in the day, people arriving later or having work to do upstairs. She had passed most of the Test Kitchen staff on her way down and they were all heading in the opposite direction, leaving just her and Brad.

“Brad.” She said and he jumped.  
“Oh, Claire! I didn’t see you there, how’s it going?” Brad said, once again talking to his feet.

Claire actually laughed at that, moving closer to him. She hesitated before stepping into his personal space.

She didn’t think about it because it felt like the right thing to do, stepping up to him, standing on her tiptoes, and kissing him softly. He seemed dazed by it, hands gripping her arms before he relaxed into it, one hand sliding up to cradle her jaw while the other one slipped down to her hip. Claire hummed into the kiss, pulling back after a moment.

“I love it, thank you so much.”  
“Of course, Claire. Anything for uh. Anything for you.”

She smiled and kissed him once more, just because she could.

“Y’know, it’s a little big for me to bring back to my place on the subway.”  
“Oh, I could make you a smaller one if you needed, I just thought that’d be the right size, I’m uh--” 

Claire interrupted him by kissing him again.

“It’s perfect. I could just use some help getting it back to my place. Y’know, after work.”  
“Oh. Oh.”

She laughed, pulling back just as other people walked into the kitchen, shooting Brad a grin over her shoulder before she went back up to start working.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Stolen from other people who write RPF, I have comment moderation on so people who want to comment can, just let me know if you don't want me to post it!


End file.
